


Wishful Thinking

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Derek, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs to learn how to think before he speaks so he doesn’t risk ruining a wonderful friendship with Derek due to his stupid <i>feelings</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BansheeLydia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/gifts).



> @allirica said:Stiles/Derek + "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Aisleah! I wrote this as an early birthday gift because classes start for me next week & I don’t know how busy I’ll be. I hope you enjoy it!!!

“I’m sorry.” Stiles rakes his fingers through his hair, focusing his attention on the wall because he’s too scared to look at Derek’s face right now. He has no idea what he'd see there, and he's too cowardly to take the risk. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

Silence greets him. That’s not unusual, really, since Derek tries to give himself time to think before speaking these days. Advice from the therapist he started seeing when he moved back to Beacon Hills several years ago. It's advice that Stiles needs to try himself because he’s got the bad habit of blurting out everything that comes to mind without having any kind of filter in place at all. The current situation he’s found himself in is a perfect example, in fact.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just, uh, be going now.” Stiles can’t stand the quiet, especially when he knows Derek can hear how fast his heart is racing and probably can smell the sour scent of an oncoming panic attack. If he doesn’t get out of here, the panic attack is likely to happen because Stiles can’t take back the words he just said, and he’s already worrying about how badly he’s fucked up one of his most important friendships.

Derek doesn’t say anything, which makes Stiles cringe because it’s proof that his words were unwanted and his feelings are not reciprocated, which is what he expected. The small flame of hope that’s always sort of been there in the back of his heart is gone now, extinguished because he’s an idiot. Stiles just hopes that his relationship with Derek can survive his social blunder. It’s not like he’s ever been creepy or weird with Derek, after all, and he’s been half in love with him since he was seventeen. He’s twenty-two now, and it’s gone from half to fully in love, but Stiles has mastered the art of subtlety because his obnoxious obviousness over Lydia years ago was a lesson well-learned.

“I really am sorry,” Stiles whispers, sparing one quick glance at Derek, who is still standing at the kitchen counter holding a carton of eggs and staring at Stiles like he’s never seen him before. His shoulders slump, and he ducks his head as he turns away, hurrying across the room towards the front door. “Don’t worry, Derek. I won’t make it anymore awkward than it already is. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

When Stiles puts his hand on the door knob, he hears a noise behind him. He’s got the knob turned halfway before a warm hand covers his. “Don’t go.” Derek’s voice is hoarse, cracked like it pains him to speak, and he steps up behind Stiles close enough to feel his body heat.

“Don’t make me stay.” Stiles clears his throat and tightens his grip on the metal knob. “I can’t, Derek. Not knowing what I just said and how I fucked everything between us up by word vomiting my feelings all over you.”

“You didn’t fuck anything up, Stiles.” Derek’s words are puffs of air against Stiles’ neck, which makes him shiver. He can feel the scrape of stubble against his skin as Derek turns his head. “I was just surprised. That’s why I didn’t say anything; the only reason I didn't.”

“I did, though. How could I not have?” Stiles leans his head forward to rest his forehead against the door. “We’re just friends, best friends really, and I ruined it all by telling you how I felt.”

“Stop acting like the world’s ending,” Derek mutters as he carefully unwraps Stiles’ fingers from the knob. “You’re being dramatic and stubborn, which isn’t a good combination.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” Stiles denies, tensing slightly when Derek puts his chin on his shoulder. “And I’m always stubborn, so you should be used to it by now.”

“You _are_ being dramatic.” Derek moves his fingers over the back of Stiles’ hand, the touch light and gentle. “Jumping to conclusions because I was too shocked to immediately respond isn’t good, either.”

“How could you be that surprised?” Stiles whispers, closing his eyes and sighing. He feels Derek’s other arm move around him, pinning him against the door. “I’ve tried being subtle, but I can’t hide how I smell or what noises my heart might make around you.”

Derek is quiet again, not saying anything at all. His breathing is steady, and Stiles wishes he had a small amount of werewolfy senses so he could hear Derek’s heartbeat right now. Stiles starts to get anxious again, not understanding why Derek won’t just let him leave so they can pretend this never happened. “I thought that I was projecting my own feelings onto you,” Derek says so softly that Stiles can barely hear him even though his mouth is right by Stiles’ ear. “Wishful thinking.”

This time, Stiles is the one who doesn’t speak. He can’t because it feels like his heart is in his throat, a cliché saying that he never truly understood until this moment. Wishful thinking. That’s what Derek just said, but does he mean what Stiles thinks he means? He can feel Derek’s thumb brushing across his knuckles, can hear Derek breathing, can feel him pressed even closer against his back, and it’s difficult to think when he feels rather overwhelmed. Suddenly, Stiles can understand Derek’s earlier silence because this must be how Derek felt when Stiles blurted out that he loved him.

“You weren’t projecting.” Stiles moves his hand so that his palm is against Derek’s, entwining their fingers together. “I’m, uh, well, I said it earlier, but yeah. I’m in love with you. Like a lot.”

“Ditto.” Derek squeezes his hand before dry lips press lightly against Stiles’ neck. “Like a lot a lot.”

“Did you seriously just Patrick Swayze me, Derek?” Stiles raises his head, turning it slightly so he can look at Derek. “You should have gone for the Han Solo. I can’t pull off Demi Moore. Of course, I'm no Leia, either, so maybe that's a bad choice, too.”

“Obscure pop culture references aren’t exactly the most romantic way to respond to a love declaration, Stiles.” Derek arches a brow but his lips are twitching in a way that lets Stiles know that he totally gets the Ghost reference anyway, and that he totally finds Stiles' rambling charming and adorable. Not that he'll ever admit it.

“Well, since _I’m_ the one who used the L word and you just came out with the ditto thing, I’d have to point out that and a lot a lot aren’t exactly romantic movie territory.” Stiles stares into Derek’s eyes and realizes how close they are now that he’s straightened up and isn’t leaning against the door. Derek’s gaze drops to his lips, which he licks instinctively because he’s more than a little nervous and also because he remembers Cher Horowitz’s seduction advice about drawing attention to your mouth when trying to flirt with hot guys. And, God, Derek’s right. Stiles’ mental rambling is full of random pop culture associations mixed with supernatural references and odd facts.

“Romantic movies aren’t exactly something I have experience starring in, you know? My life’s leaned more towards tragedy or depressing drama until recently.” Derek is still holding Stiles’ hand, but he’s moved his free hand to rest on Stiles’ hip, his thumb rubbing against Stiles’ hip bone beneath the hem of his shirt. “This isn’t one of those movies that Lydia loves so much, is it?”

“Her favorites are tearjerkers,” Stiles murmurs, wondering if they’re seriously discussing their possible relationship status change via movie comparisons and then realizing that it _does_ make it easier to be honest about emotional stuff, so he’ll go with it. “I prefer the rom coms with silly hijinks and laughter and happy endings.”

“I don’t like it when you cry,” Derek whispers, his head moving a little closer as he speaks. “So I hope this one has a happy ending.”

“And an adult rating.” Stiles grins when Derek huffs a laugh. “For male nudity and sexual situations. And probably a lot of bad language.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek smiles at him, the crinkly eyed smile that makes Stiles’ heart skip a beat. It’s impossible to resist, so Stiles decides not to even try. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips against Derek’s in a somewhat chaste kiss. He feels Derek’s hand flex against his hip then Derek’s returning the kiss, pressing more firmly as their lips move together. The angle is awkward, it’s a little too dry, and they’re both trying to take control, but none of that really matters because they’re actually kissing.

When they pull back, Stiles can’t stop smiling. He knows he probably looks a little demented and goofy, but whatever. Derek doesn’t seem to care, so why should he? “So, we’re really going to do this? The romantic thing?”

“It seems so.” Derek rubs his face against Stiles’ neck. “I want to, I mean. If you do? You’d said you were sorry, that you hadn’t meant to, and I wasn’t sure if you regretted telling me or if you were just embarrassed for some stupid reason.”

“The latter. Definitely no regrets, not now that you’ve finally found words,” Stiles says. “For once, I guess I’m glad that I have no filter and blurted out something I’ve kept private for years.”

“Wait. _Years_?” Derek blinks at him. “How long, Stiles?”

“Uh. Do I have to?” Stiles makes a face when Derek just arches a brow. “Since the last half of senior year, when you came back after your adventures with Braeden then Isaac and Jackson and finally Cora. You were here for me when Scott and Lydia started dating and I felt left out, you know? It was a crush, at first, but it just kept getting more serious until I realized one day that being around you makes me happy and that I couldn’t really imagine my future without you being a part of it.”

“That was five years ago,” Derek points out. “How on Earth did you manage to keep it a secret for that long? You couldn’t even go a week without telling Scott about the surprise party Lydia planned for his twenty-first birthday.”

“Yeah, well, that was something fun, and Scott knew Lydia was scheming, so he used the puppy dog eyes on me, which are impossible to resist.” Stiles pulls his hand away from Derek’s and wiggles around until his back is against the door. “Pining for someone who had become my best friend but didn’t ever seem interested in being more wasn’t fun, so it was easier to keep that to myself. Anyway, what about you? That kiss wasn’t a sudden realization of feelings type of kiss; it was a pent up emotions for a period of time type of kiss.”

“Speaking from experience?” Derek frowns slightly, like he’s jealous, and Stiles can’t help grinning at him.

“Nope. I’ve just watched a lot of movies.” Stiles reaches up and shyly touches Derek’s cheek, dragging his knuckles down his bearded jaw. “You know my experience is pretty limited, Derek. Now, quit trying to distract me. How long?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Derek admits, the tips of his ears flushing red. When Stiles just gives him a look that he hopes says ‘you’d better talk now, mister’, Derek smiles wryly. “About three years. I don’t really know when or how, it just happened. I’m not as good with words as you, so I’m not so comfortable talking about it. Uh, sorry if that’s not suitably rom commy for you.”

“It’s perfect,” Stiles says honestly, moving his fingers into Derek’s thick hair. “Why would I want our lives to be some boring predictable rom com? Nothing about us or Beacon Hills is all that boring and predictable, after all. Anyway, life isn’t like the movies, which is probably a good thing.” He leans in and presses a light kiss against Derek’s mouth. “I don’t care that you’re not so good with words, you know? I just need to hear them sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know.” Derek’s hand is on the back of his neck now, thumb rubbing circles against his throat. “And I can use them when I need to, when you need to know what I’m thinking.” He kisses Stiles’ cheek. “Like right now.” His lips press against the curve of Stiles’ jaw, three in a row down to his chin. “I want to date you.” He kisses Stiles’ nose then his forehead. “I want to kiss you.” He kisses his way down the other side of Stiles’ jaw. “I want to touch you.” He looks into Stiles’ eyes. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers before he kisses Stiles’ mouth.

The kiss is different than the others. Derek licks at Stiles’ lips until he parts them, and then he deepens the kiss, licking into Stiles’ mouth as he moves his hand up from his neck into his hair. It’s a slow kiss, like Derek’s taking his time exploring Stiles’ mouth and savoring his taste. It’s incredibly sensual, and Stiles feels like his knees are seriously becoming weak as he grips Derek’s shoulders and returns the kiss eagerly.

As they kiss, Stiles moves back and pulls Derek with him. It’s a bad choice. He feels the doorknob digging into the small of his back, but he doesn’t want to break the heated kissing sessions because of an annoyance. When Derek presses against him more firmly, however, he has to pull away and take a few much needed breaths. “There’s a knob in my back that’s not too comfy.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I got a little carried away.” Derek lets go and steps away. “Probably moving a little too fast, huh?”

“I don’t know about that. I mean, three years seems like a long enough wait, don’t you think? Seems just about right.” Stiles rubs his back where the knob poked him and stares at Derek’s mouth. “Do you want to go out tonight? For dinner or mini golf or bowling or whatever date like activity we decide on?”

Derek ducks his head and smiles, actually showing a flash of dimple that’s even more adorable than the crinkly eyes. Stiles is in _so deep_ , it’s ridiculous. “Yeah, that’d be fun. Dinner and a movie is pretty traditional, isn’t it? I think that’d be fun.”

“That’s what they say,” Stiles tells him, forgetting about his back and stepping closer. “A movie usually means making out in the back row, though. That might be moving too fast.”

“Someone told me once that three years is a long enough courtship,” Derek teases, reaching out to snag Stiles’ hand and tug him closer. “Food and making out sounds like appropriate date activities to me. Not that I really have any experience with dating and stuff like that.”

When he says that, Stiles realizes that it’s true. Derek was really too young when he was going out with Paige to do the whole dating thing, and then there was Kate with the Catch a Predator creepy sexual abuse followed by some one night stands in New York that Derek’s told him about. Then it was Jennifer slash Julia’s magically induced sex, which was totally rape in Stiles’ viewpoint, and Braeden wasn’t really into dating and traditions. Stiles looks at Derek and tries to make sure he knows how serious he’s being when he says, “I’m going to date the socks off of you, Derek Hale. I’ll make you so damn happy that the rom coms are envious.”

“I seem to recall you mentioning an adult rating, so I assume it’ll be more than my socks being dated off,” Derek says, grinning at him as he moves his arms around Stiles. “And I don’t really care about the rom com thing. Just promise me there’ll be a happy ending?”

Stiles leans in and kisses him thoroughly, one kiss becoming several that leave them both a little breathless when he pulls back. He looks into Derek’s eyes and smiles. “I promise. The happiest ending you can imagine. Disney will even be jealous.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


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